


Belly-Flies

by idolsidle



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, I refuse to drop the Evans, I think he might have at first but he would come back to it later in life I guarantee, Yes they call him Soul Eater Evans on here thats right AO3 rock it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idolsidle/pseuds/idolsidle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Butterflies in her stomach. She decided to call them "belly-flies". For scientific purposes. High school AU.</p><p>My best attempt at a prompt from tumblr user wolf-is-i.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belly-Flies

Maka scrunched her nose at the container of some kind of brown substance in front of her.

 

Clutching a tray to her front to protect her vital organs in case it decided to rear up and attack, she shook her head at the lunch lady, indicating firmly that she did not want to partake in today’s lunch special.

 

It was a testament to just how indiscernible the “food” was that the lunch lady only nodded sympathetically and waved her on down the line. Maka was happy to escape, but nonetheless, she flashed her eyes to that particular menu item several times to ensure there was no movement.

 

Her suspicion made her a tiny bit jumpy, so when something heavy with a good deal of fuzz of some kind planted itself on her shoulder, instinct demanded a Maka-chop.

 

_WHAM!_

 

“DAMMIT, WOMAN! Even _I_ know I didn’t do anything this time to deserve that!”

 

Maka’s face was as red as the freshly spilled blood of her enemies as she sheepishly turned to face Soul, who was rubbing his head with an impressive scowl on his handsome face.

 

“Sorry Soul! I didn’t mean to! I’ve just been a bit jumpy today, and you surprised me!” she laughed a tiny bit nervously. No way in hell was she gonna tell him she had thought he was a mystery meat monster on the prowl for flesh to devour and add to its mass.

 

He stopped rubbing his head as a sly smile worked its way across his face. His arm came back down to hang at his side, leaving his hair even more disheveled and anti-gravitational than usual. Maka fought down another blush. She noticed that he had foregone a hair band today. Odd. He must have forgot.

 

“Well, alright. I forgive you. After all, what are best friends for, if not forgiveness?”

 

Maka narrowed her eyes _ever_ so slightly. His benevolent mood was suspicious. Admittedly, he usually shrugged off her frequent attacks no problem, but if he didn’t deserve it he at least gave her thirty seconds worth of a hard time.

 

The answer to her suspicions came quickly.

 

“Of course, best friends are also for letting each other cut in the lunch line, dontcha think?”

 

Dammit, he had done the head-tilt/tiny grin thing. It was going to be so much harder saying no to him now. At least he didn’t know that that face was her kryptonite. She had only developed a weakness for it in the last few months anyway so…

Right, okay. Back to the situation at hand.

 

“No, Soul.”

 

He pouted. Without realizing it of course, since Soul Eater Evans was too cool to pout.

 

“No, Soul.”

 

“Pleeeeeaaaaaase, Maka?”

 

“There are only six people in line behind us right now! Why can’t you just go to the back?”

 

“And walk past the mystery meat, givin’ it an opportunity to reach out and consume me like The Blob?” He snorted. “Not bloody likely.”

 

Maka sighed. “Fine.” She couldn’t really argue with that. _She_ had walked past it, but she was known for her bravery, and it’s not like she had gotten past unscathed. Or rather, Soul had been scathed, but at her hand.

 

“Really?” He was clearly surprised.

 

Exasperation coloured her tone. “Yes, Soul. Now go get your seventeen sandwiches or whatever.”

 

He tugged a pigtail and gave her a real smile for about half a second before it dissolved into a smirk. “You’re the best, Albarn.”

 

She smiled briefly, but it faded as he turned to grab a tray. That had been close. She had to stop being so lenient with him. It was becoming obvious. She tweaked the button of her overcoat and scowled. Stupid butterflies were clouding her judgment when she was around him. She didn’t even understand what the moronic things were doing in her stomach. All of the species of _Lepidoptera_ that were about the size of the ones in her abdomen were supposed to have flown south at the beginning of October.

 

She decided to do some research into it once she got home.

 

* * *

 

Maka was panicking.

 

Her research into the “belly-flies”, as she had dubbed them (for scientific purposes), had yielded results and now she was in full-out clutch-the-roots-of-one’s-hair-and-laugh-nervously-at-anything-and-everything mode.

 

After a brief internet search had revealed nothing scientific and only summary upon summary for fanfiction was exposeded to Maka’s curious gaze, she had turned to her books, contemplating the sheer volume of yaoi that existed in that dark, addictive void that was the internet. She had to admit she was rather impressed, and also vaguely frightened, for some reason she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

 

Her encyclopedias were useless, as were her fantasy books, and most of her nonfiction section. Frustrated with the lack of results, Maka had decided on a break.

 

Fetching herself some tea and a slice of the pie Soul had brought over the other day, she had retreated to the couch with her latest guilty-pleasure romance novel.

 

She took a bite out of the baked good before riffling through the book to the correct page. Once she had it, she set the book down on the coffee table, facedown and still open to her page, picked up the pie – and devoured it.

 

She’d always had difficulty eating and reading at the same time. She tended to ignore the food in lieu of reading, or vice versa. Also, the pie was delicious. Soul had a secret talent for baking.

 

When he’d lived with his parents, a few doors down from the house she had lived in originally with her mama and papa, when her parents were still together, his family had had an Italian woman who was a nanny to Soul and his brother and who made pretty much all the desserts in the house. Caterina would always wink and hand her and Soul a piece of fresh baked Pan di Spagna or a square of Nociata when they came in from playing outside. Later, the nanny was no longer needed, and a bit later still, Soul received permission to live on his own, under the condition that he would lessen his rebellious behaviour, continue with the piano, and aim to get into Juilliard. Soul had been only too happy to accept his parents’ terms; his life at home had become unbearably stifling, expectations and unfair comparisons piling up like so much dirty laundry. Once he had celebrated his newfound freedom with several weeks of doing all the things one was only able to do when living alone, Soul had gotten bored, and so had inadvertently started the domestication process.

 

He learned how to do laundry properly (with Maka and Tsubaki’s help; it had taken several attempts), figured out how often he would need to clean his apartment in order to avoid living in a pigsty, and finally put to good use the few lessons on how to cook and bake he’d received from Caterina. His cooking was good, after a few weeks of practice, but his baking was a full-blown talent. His pies were the best, followed immediately by the Italian desserts Caterina had made so often, and his brownies came in third place.

 

Maka’s favourite part was getting to see Soul wear an apron as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He was a conundrum in many ways, Maka thought, still scarfing pie. He had some kind of ideal of how to be, which he called “cool”, but it was, at best, an unorthodox definition of “cool”. After all, how many people get offended when told that they’re pouting, but then don’t have any shits to give when they put on an apron and get icing sugar on their forehead? He was odd, that’s for sure, but that was something _Maka_ didn’t have any shits to give about, since she strongly suspected that if Soul were any different, he wouldn’t be her best friend.

 

Sighing in satisfaction at her now full stomach, she had picked up her book again and started reading where she had last left off. Three pages down the literary road, she had her answer.

 

_Dana placed a hand over her stomach, willing the insects inside to stop their dancing and retreat to whatever cocoons they had come out of. She already knew she felt something beyond friendship towards Teo and she did not need the constant physical reminder in the form of –_

 

Maka had dropped the book.

 

* * *

 

Butterflies. Of course. How could she have been so _stupid_?

 

* * *

 

Just to be clear, Maka had never dropped a book in her life. Books were precious things, and though she regularly used them as weapons, otherwise she always found the time to put them down properly, out of harms way.

 

* * *

 

Her, who had read more romance novels that she cared to admit, who had braved shipping hate and trolls to read fanfiction for her favourite series. And she hadn’t known what those belly-flies were doing fluttering around when she thought about Soul?

 

* * *

 

This particular book didn’t have far to fall. It merely went about four inches in a downwards direction and landed in her lap. Perfectly fine, with only a few pages being bent in no permanent fashion.

 

* * *

 

Maka stared catatonically at the wall. This was not good.

 

* * *

 

When the book was finally removed from her lap, ten minutes had passed, and she didn’t mark her page as she set it down on the coffee table.

 

* * *

 

That was the point at which Maka began to panic.

 

* * *

 

The next day, walking up to the oppressive and possibly architecturally unsound school building, Maka thought she had gotten both the panic and the belly-flies under control.

 

This impression was destroyed with what Maka reckoned to be at least two tons of mental C4 as she heard the distinct purr of a motorcycle approaching.

 

She turned, knowing that Soul would pull up right next to her.

 

“Hey Maka, why didn’t you wait for me? I was gonna pick you up today remember? I had to go to the door to check if you were sick and I ended up getting an earful of Spirit complaining about my – well, everything, actually.” A tiny smirk bloomed across his face as he dismounted and started pocketing his keys and biking gloves.

 

Maka resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Only Soul would be pleased in the knowledge that somebody’s father found every bit of him displeasing. “Sorry, Soul, I totally spaced.”

 

He stopped his movements. Looked at her. Regarded her calmly for a moment.

 

She sighed, “Papa answered his phone last night, which I admit is a step in the right direction, but I could hear giggles in the background the whole time.”

 

Soul nodded, accepting her excuse for forgetting their plans to meet-up when she could usually remember the name of every royal family member of China in perfect order.

 

The bell rang as he was about to open his mouth. Surprise crossed his face as he looked at the school building.

 

As he took her hand and began leading her inside Maka cursed this situation. She hadn’t exactly lied to Soul. The phone call to her papa had happened, but that had been three days ago. She had felt mad and sad about it for a bit, but when she thought about how hard Spirit was trying and how many extra shifts he worked so that he could be sure she’d get to go to college, she had dismissed it from her mind.

Thus, she hadn’t actually forgotten their plans for that morning. She just hadn’t thought she was ready, so soon after her realization, to sit behind him and hold onto his waist as he drove her to school.

 

Funny thing was, though her panic had spiked when she first heard the motorbike’s engine, it had calmed to near nothing as soon as Soul had pulled up next to her and opened his stupid sharky mouth.  The belly-flies ran riot, but the panic subsided, and as they dashed through the halls and Soul tossed back to her that she could always, _always,_ stay at his place if she needed to get away from her dad, Maka wondered what she had been so worried about.

 

Soul was her best friend. Her liking him as more than that was a problem, but he was still her best friend, with her since they were kids and, if he was to be believed, unlikely to leave her until one or both of them died.

 

Maka smiled and told him she knew; she knew she could always count on him.

 

Honestly, what did she have to be afraid of?

 

* * *

 

“Hey Maka, can I borrow a penc – Geez! You don’t have to fling it at me! Even if you are a spaz at heart! – Hey – OW.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Maka, aren’t you going to come eat lunch?”

 

“Oh, heh, uh, no, Soul, thanks, but I gotta - I gotta go to the library. Yeah. See ya!”

.

.

.

.

“Tch, bookworm.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, nerdgasm.”

 

“GAH! Soul! Don’t stand so close! I nearly Maka-chopped you again!”

 

“But your shoulder is comfy! – Are you blushing?”

 

“NO!”

 

“Except you are. You defi – ARGH!”

 

* * *

 

“That was uncalled for, Albarn.”

.

.

.

.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay. You’ve been jittery all day.”

.

.

“I’m fine, Soul.”

.

.

.

“Okay.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Did my saying that somehow indicate to you that it was open season for my shoulder again?”

 

“Yes.”

.

.

*Sigh*

 

* * *

 

Oh, yes, that’s right; Maka just had every encounter with Soul ever to be afraid of.

 

 

* * *

 

“Soul? What are you doing here? It’s like ten o’clock and we have school tomorrow!”

 

“In comparison to the issue at hand, school is unimportant right now. At least for myself it is. Is your dad home?”

 

Maka knew that when Soul started talking like the true blue blood he was, shit was about to go down. It was his way of seeming calm. She didn’t understand what shit could possibly be about to drop, but she knew it was going to. “No, he isn’t. He’s working until morning.”

 

“Good.” Soul pushed through the door way and past her.

 

Maka closed the door, somewhat warily turning to look at Soul, whose back was towards her. She took one step forward, then another, and then stopped.

 

“Soul? What is it?”

 

He turned to look at her, and Maka was surprised that the wariness she felt was reflected in his expression, though his eyes were also fierce and determined.

 

“You’ve been avoiding me. Tell me why.”

 

Okay, so maybe Maka had lied and she did in fact have a small idea what shit was about to go down.

 

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

 

“Uh huh, then tell me why it is that even BlackStar’s noticed that there’s something off. The rest of the gang caught on about a day after I did, but you know something’s wrong when it takes BlackStar only about two days more to get it, and it’s been a week now.”

 

“I told you, nothing’s wrong. I haven’t been avoiding you.”

 

“Cut the bullshit, Maka. I know I might look stupid, but I am, in fact, not. I know when someone’s lying to me, especially if it’s you.”

 

Maka scowled and looked to the side. She didn’t enjoy being so transparent to him. Of course, he was generally transparent to her as well, but right now she would prefer it to have been one-sided. “I’m not lying” she said, already knowing that the stubborn tilt of her jaw was giving her away.

 

“God! You can be so infuriating sometimes, Albarn, you know that?!” He had his hands in front of him, palm up, pleading. “You’re my best friend and if I’m not severely mistaken, I’m yours! And I can’t fix whatever’s going on if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!”

 

She kept her gaze somewhere on his torso, glaring at his meddlesome person.

 

“If you don’t tell me, you know I’m just going to start guessing.”

 

She didn’t move an inch.

 

“Fine. Here goes then.”

 

He took a deep breath and shoved his hands in his pockets.

 

“Is it a guy?” He said quietly.

 

Maka started, her eyes snapping up to his face. He was looking right at her, matter of fact as usual but she knew she hadn’t imagined the touch of vulnerability in his voice and she could see it in the way his shoulders hunched ever so slightly, in how far he had forced his hands into his jacket.

 

He let out a breath, eyes closing, and Maka realized only then that she’d just given herself away.

 

“I, uh –“

 

“Is it Hiro?”

 

“What? No, I – “

 

“Kilik?”

 

“No, of course n – “

 

“Please tell me it’s not BlackStar or Kidd.”

 

“What? BlackSt – NO, SOUL!”

 

His eyes skittered to the side and then back again when she yelled, a touch of shame in his face. She took a deep breath. “I - it’s not any of them, okay?”

 

“But it is a guy?” He looked faintly like he hadn’t meant to voice the question out loud.

 

Now it was Maka’s turn to look away again. “Yes.” She said quietly. _It’s you_ , she thought.

 

“Right” he breathed out through his nostrils, the vulnerability showing in his posture again.

 

Maka couldn’t make heads or tails of this boy right now. “Why does it even matter, Soul?” she asked, somewhat tiredly.

 

He tensed.

 

Maka stared. Come to think of it. That was a really good question. She tried again.

 

“Soul?” her voice was careful. “Why does it matter?”

 

He stayed quiet.

 

“I know it’s not just that you’re worried about me avoiding you in favour of some guy. You know I wouldn’t throw away our friendship for that, so why does it matter?”

 

His shoulders hunched a tiny bit more and his gaze seemed to be locked on her left knee.

 

“If you don’t tell me, you know I’m just going to start guessing.”

 

His mouth quirked up at one end, ever so slightly, before falling again. His eyes left her knee and looked to the side, one foot lifting to scuff the floor. Maka waited. She could tell he was going to say something.

 

“I just – I guess I was kind of hoping… that… that it would be me…. The guy that you ended up… interested in…. I wanted it to be me.”

 

Something swelled in Maka’s chest. She stared at the tiny dusting of pink across Soul’s cheeks and found she was only able to breathe in tiny sips of air.

 

Soul scuffed his shoe one more time before standing on both feet again. “Sorry, but – you asked and – “

 

“It’s you.” Maka squeaked.

 

“What?” Soul looked at her, utterly confused.

 

She cleared her throat. “The guy. It is you.”

 

Soul stared. Maka stared right back.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah. Oh.”

 

More staring. Soul had very pretty eyes, thought Maka idly.

 

“So you wanna go see that thriller we both wanted to see?” Soul blurted. “I mean, with me, but like – like an official date and not like when we usually go out just the two of us?”

 

Maka found, amongst the awkwardness, the will to smile. She beamed, really. “Yes. I would like that very much.”

 

Soul smiled too, smaller than hers but completely sincere, and took a step forward. “Good. That’s – that’s good.”

 

Another pause. Longer this time, and still awkward, Maka thought, but it was Soul and her, so it didn’t really matter.

 

“I guess I should get going. Like you said, we have school tomorrow.”

 

Somehow this snapped Maka out of her daze. “Yeah, maybe you should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow anyway.” She took a step towards Soul and then turned back to look at the door, for some reason unsure what to do with her hands. “I’ll – I’ll just see you out, I – “

 

A grip on her wrist turned her to face him and then there was a light pressure against her lips. Then it was gone, and ruby coloured with uncertainty and wariness watched her carefully.

 

Then the pressure against her mouth was back again as she leaned up and threaded a hand through his hair.

 

It took a minute, but soon they both had the hang of it and were equally uninterested in separating. Soul tasted like pie and Maka was very, very happy about it.

 

Finally, the need for air separated them. Both grinned at the other and relished how well (surprisingly well) this had worked out. They spared a second to dread he embarrassment of telling their friends and then Soul asked her if she was free on Friday.

 

She said she was and asked him which snacks he thought they should sneak into the movie.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry about the high school AUs they are the only things I'm good at.
> 
> So, allow me to introduce you to my new headcanon which has basis in actual canon.  
> Soul is a beast at baking.  
> I mean, c'mon, that one scene in the anime (I don't remember if it's in the manga) where he just sets a tray of pie and tea down in front of Maka, casually sporting a blue apron. I say he made that pie, with science, and I've always loved that Soul's definition of cool makes him embarrassed about some things, but completely oblivious to others, like wearing an apron.  
> I feel like Soul would absolutely be the type of person who couldn't care less about wearing pink but he's embarrassed to be caught making moon eyes at a puppy or something. Picture it; Soul just comes waltzing out of the bathroom one morning in a pink towel, and just goes about his business, completely uncaring. But then, Maka's stopped sometime to pet the puppy of one of their neighbours and she looks at Soul to find him twitching or some shit, trying to resist the cuteness like the super dork he is.  
> And this makes Maka try to resist his cuteness.


End file.
